Part 19 (2/2)

No, I will not permit it--Hark you, Chremes, The name is Pasibula.

CRITO. True.

CHREMES. The same.

PAM. I've heard it from herself a thousand times.

SIMO. Chremes, I trust you will believe, we all Rejoice at this.

CHREMES. 'Fore Heaven I believe so.

PAM. And now, my father----

SIMO. Peace, son! the event Has reconcil'd me.

PAM. O thou best of fathers!

Does Chremes too confirm Glycerium mine?

CHREMES. And with good cause if Simo hinder not.

PAM. Sir! (_To SIMO._)

SIMO. Be it so.

CHREMES. My daughter's portion is Ten talents, Pamphilus.

PAM. I am content.

CHREMES. I'll to her instantly: and prithee, Crito, Along with me! for sure she knows me not. (_Exeunt CHREMES and CRITO._

SIMO. Why do you not give orders instantly To bring her to our house?

PAM. Th' advice is good.

I'll give that charge to Davus.

SIMO. It can't be.

PAM. Why?

SIMO. He has other business of his own, Of nearer import to himself.

PAM. What business?

SIMO. He's bound.

PAM. Bound! how, Sir!

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